


got wood?

by monaesque



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9676283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaesque/pseuds/monaesque
Summary: Potter and Malfoy compare broomsticks. Innuendoes ensue.





	

 

 

“What are you doing in the Quidditch supply shed?” Harry stopped short at the sight of familiar blond hair.

“This is not your private domain, Potter,” sneered Malfoy. “I’m here to check on my broom. Same as you, I reckon.”

Harry made an irritated sound. He had wanted some alone time with his broomstick. Nevertheless, he stayed put, driven partly by curiosity. Word had got around Hogwarts that Malfoy had been sent a new, top-of-the-line broom, and Harry was dying to see it in person.

He strode into the shed to where he usually kept his broom, casting surreptitious glances at Malfoy, who was cradling something tenderly in his hands. Harry caught a glimpse of shiny, dark wood.

“Hey, Malfoy. Check this out,” Harry broke the silence. He grabbed his Firebolt and swung his leg over its length, liking the way the wood hummed between his thighs. He was quite proud of his Firebolt and never hesitated to show it off.

“It's not like I haven’t seen your broomstick before, Potter,” scowled Malfoy.

“Not up close you haven’t,” Harry pushed. “It’s still one of the best brooms on the market today.”

Malfoy approached slowly and gave the Firebolt an up and down perusal.

“Good-looking broomstick. Well-proportioned,” Malfoy said reluctantly. “Bet it feels good between your legs.”

Harry gave a squirm of pleasure at the praise.

“Oh yes,” he agreed. “It’s perfect for a long, hard ride through the night.”

“Can I touch it?” Malfoy asked with his hand outstretched.

“Well,” Harry hesitated. He didn’t often allow other people to touch his Firebolt, but Malfoy looked so eager that he relented. “Alright, you can touch mine if you let me touch yours.”

“Deal,” Malfoy said. He slid his hand along the edge of Harry’s wood with an appreciative sigh. The Firebolt thrummed harder in pleasure under his touch.

“Nice and unyielding,” said Malfoy. He squeezed the length harder.

“Quite pliant if you know what to do with it,” Harry breathed, feeling rather hot under the collar.

“Get a lot of mileage out of it?” Malfoy inquired.

“Oh yeah, every ride is a one of a kind experience,” Harry gushed.

“It’s an old model, though. Almost four years old,” Malfoy said, though he seemed loathe to take his hand off the shaft.

“Heard you’ve ordered a new one,” Harry hinted. “Let’s have a look, then.”

Malfoy revealed the broomstick he was holding in his other hand like he was handling the Malfoy family jewels.

“Oh wow, the Nimbus Supreme!” Harry moaned, almost orgasming when Malfoy slid the gleaming stick between his legs. “May I?”

“You may,” Malfoy said magnanimously. Harry ran his hand over the erect piece of wood between Malfoy’s thighs reverently, closing his fist around the end and giving the length a few up and down strokes for good measure. The rod vibrated under his touch.

“That’s amazing,” sighed Harry, almost drooling.

“Zero to a hundred in one tenth of a second,” Malfoy boasted. “Cushioning charms for the most comfortable ride of your life. You can go for hours on this baby and not feel sore. Trust me, I’ve tried it.” He finished with a wink.

“One thing I’ll say for my Firebolt,” admitted Harry, “is it sometimes leaves my arse a bit sore. For a virgin flyer, it can be especially brutal. Of course, I’m an old hand.” He preened.

“I can tell you’ve been around the block,” Malfoy said speculatively.

“Yours may be a newer model, but I bet mine is longer,” Harry challenged.

“No way!” Malfoy shook his head, rising to the test. “Let’s see, then.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder and took the measure of each other’s shafts.

“Alright, yours _is_ longer,” Harry conceded.

“Yours is thicker, though,” Malfoy consoled. He gripped Harry’s Firebolt again. “I do admit I have a weakness for a nice, thick one.”

“Do you polish your broomstick often?” Harry inquired, liking the way Malfoy stroked his Firebolt with a strong, sure grip.

“Daily,” Malfoy declared. “Usually at night, alone in my bed.”

“Me too,” said Harry. “I find it a stress-reliever, to be frank. Quality Quidditch Supplies sells a very well-mixed lubricant that I’m partial to. Makes for a great polish and a spectacular finish.”

“Hmmm, I can tell you polish your stick often,” Malfoy said admirably, never taking his hand off Harry’s Firebolt. Then he touched the neatly sheared twigs. “Looks like you trim as well.”

“I like to keep it neat down there,” Harry said modestly.

“I like a man who takes the time to landscape,” Malfoy purred. “It’s so often overlooked.

“Aesthetics are so important, don’t you think?” Harry sighed. “So is function, of course, but one must not discount looks.”

“Show me how you polish your broom,” Malfoy said softly, like they were sharing a secret.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Harry dared.

“Deal,” Malfoy grinned. He rummaged in the supply cupboard and emerged with a bottle of polish and a rag. He passed the items to Harry, who took the polish but declined the rag.

“I like to use my bare hands,” Harry advised. “Feels more … intimate. Here, try it.”

Following Harry’s lead, Malfoy squirted some polish into his palm. It had a slippery texture and earthy scent. He rubbed the substance between his palms to smooth it out.

“Now, I like to start from the tip. Just the very tip. Take it slowly,” Harry instructed. Keeping the Firebolt between his legs, he grabbed the tip of the length with both hands and smoothed the polish over the end, rendering it shiny and glistening.

“Ooh,” Malfoy moaned, and imitated the way Potter made a twisting motion with his fist around the head of the shaft. His own Nimbus Supreme throbbed more enthusiastically between his thighs, making him feel the vibration throughout his entire body. “That feels good, Potter.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Harry said. He looked over at Malfoy, admiring the way his long, white fingers looked against the darker color of his wood. “Now stroke harder. Work your way towards the base.”

Malfoy applied more lubricating polish and resumed the up and down motion of his hand on his stick. His pace was increasing and the color was rising in his cheeks. Potter was stared back unabashed at the way he worked his shaft.

“Almost done,” Malfoy groaned. “Oh yesss.” He gave a sigh of pleasure when he reached the base of his stick, admiring the way the entire stick gleamed and shone. Potter echoed his sentiment, his jerking hand slowing down as he finished polishing his Firebolt.

“Not often I meet someone who handles a broomstick so well,” Malfoy admired. He was breathing rather fast. “What other talents do you have hidden up your sleeve, Potter?”

“Well,” Harry gave a modest shrug. “I’ve been told that I’m quite skilled with balls, too.”

“Oh really?” Malfoy said, intrigued. “These balls?”

He grabbed a chest of Quidditch balls and opened the lid to reveal a large Quaffle, two Bludgers that strained against their confines, and the golden Snitch.

“Oh yes,” Harry purred, stalking over to examine the chest’s contents. “Brooms may be my specialty, but balls are certainly fun to play with.”

“Let’s see how good you are, then,” Malfoy challenged. He picked up the Quaffle and chucked it at Harry, who caught it with lightning-fast reflexes.

“You’ll have to do better than that!” Harry grinned, throwing the ball back to Malfoy. “So what’s your type, Malfoy? Of ball, I mean?”

“I like my balls big, red and smooth,” Malfoy declared, fondling the Quaffle.

“I have a softness for the Snitch,” confided Harry. He picked up the tiny ball, which twitched and unfurled. “Did you know that if you manage to catch the Snitch, you can open it up and put something inside?”

He picked up the Snitch and stroked it tenderly. After a few moments of coaxing, the Snitch gaped open to reveal a secret hole.

“It’s so small!” exclaimed Malfoy. He penetrated the Snitch’s secret chamber with one finger. “How can you fit anything inside?”

“With proper handling, you’d be surprised how much can fit,” Harry smirked.

Malfoy fingered the inside of the Snitch some more, then returned it to the chest with reluctance.

“Feeling adventurous?”

Malfoy looked up just in time to see Harry release one of the Bludgers from the chest. It flew to the rafters with a tremendous whoosh, then boomeranged back, aiming straight for Malfoy’s head.

Malfoy gave a screeched and ducked. Harry, on the other hand, was ready and pounced on the excitable ball, catching it in his arms.

Malfoy ran to open the chest so that Harry could wrestle the ball back into its slot. Harry clutched the twisting ball with both hands and forced it towards its designated hole.

“Ooh, I”ve almost got it in!” Harry huffed, straining and thrusting.

“C’mon, that’s it, give it here, Potter!” Malfoy cried, a drop of sweat trickling down his pale brow.

“Hold still, Malfoy! It’s easier if you don’t move so much!” Harry moaned.

“Hurry up, then! The hole is right here - just one more push!”

“Yes!” Harry ejaculated loudly when he finally slid his Bludger into its slot. “Finally!”

His bottom lip between his teeth, Malfoy clamped down on the Bludger and secured it with the leather strap. Then the two boys fell against each other, panting loudly in exertion.

“Wow, that was -” Harry began.

“Yeah, I agree,” Malfoy finished.

“I had fun,” Harry granted.

Malfoy nodded in agreement. “Let’s do this again sometime, Potter.”

“Next time, I’ll give you a hands-on polishing demonstration that’ll knock your socks off,” Potter promised.

“And you’ll have to show me how the Snitch _really_ works,” Malfoy reminded.

Harry grinned. “Game on.”

 

 


End file.
